


Dreams

by LuckyDucky20



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Dreamsharing, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Past Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28005408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyDucky20/pseuds/LuckyDucky20
Summary: Mulder and Scully are asked to help a small town sheriff catch a killer. Knowing that Scully will be used as bait makes Mulder uncomfortable. So do the dreams that begin to flood his mind at night. I'm not good at these, just read it if you want to!XXXPosted several years ago on FanFic. Not edited or beta'd. Ain't nobody got time for that.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Don't own them. Got this idea from watching too many movies on a snowy day! And the episode of "The Field Where I Died."

"I don't like this, Scully," Fox Mulder said for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I'm not especially excited about this either, Mulder, but they need our help, and I'm who they need to help catch this guy," Dana Scully told her partner.

"I know, but I don't like knowing that you're just being used as bait," he looked over at her from the driver's seat.

"We're the professionals, Mulder. We can help them. AND they called us. Someone must think that we do a good job," she smiled back at him.

"They only called us because they needed a redhead... This isn't even an x-file!" he argued.

"Well, it's kind of an x-file. All we know is that there is a man targeting redheaded women, but no one knows how he gets in and out of houses and buildings. Maybe he can walk through walls or something?" Scully said, trying to get Mulder to like going on this case, though she believed what she had said was ridiculous.

Mulder smiled at his partner, knowing that she was trying her best to get him to like the situation. Despite the fact that he hated that Scully was being used as bait, he was happy to go on another road trip with his favorite person in the world. His partner. His best friend.

He pulled into the little motel where they were going to be staying. They went into the office and gave the receptionist their names.

"Two, separate rooms," Scully told her.

"Next to each other, with a connecting door, if at all possible," Mulder added, smiling at Scully. She rolled her eyes.

"Hmm. It's our Fall Festival week," the girl informed them. "The best I can do is give you all a suite with one common area and two bedrooms. No extra charge since you work for our fine country!" she told them, smiling as she handed Scully a slightly old-fashioned brass key.

Mulder got their bags out of the truck of the car. Scully made a move to take hers.

"I got it. Just go unlock the door," he told her.

She sighed, rolling her eyes at his macho-ness, and did as he asked.

The inside of their room was lovely! It was pink. Pink carpet. Pink couch. Pink chairs. Pink table. Pink bedrooms. Pink lamps. Pink drawers. Pink bathroom. Pink everything!

"I hate pink..." Scully muttered to Mulder as he come into the door. They went to her room first so he could drop her bag off.

"It matches your hair," he teased her, patting her on the top of her head.

She slapped his hand away. "My hair is NOT pink!" She told him, then added, "I hate you."

He chuckled, ran over to the bed, and hurled himself onto it. "No you don't! You love me! Just admit it!"

For the millionth time that day, she rolled her eyes at him. "Mulder? Get off of my bed."

"You're no fun."

"I'm not here to be fun. I'm here to help catch a murderer. What about you?"

He sighed, "Okay. Let's go over the things we know." He patted the bed for her to sit next to him.

Mulder earned another eye roll, but Scully grabbed the case file out of her suitcase and joined him on the bed. He was still sprawled out, but she sat cross-legged on a Mulder-free area next to him.

"Tina Mattingly. 27. 3rd grade teacher. Attacked in her apartment 8 days ago. He strangled her to death with his bare hands," Scully read and passed Mulder the file. "Melanie Jones," she continued, "23. High school soccer coach. Attacked in the park 5 days ago. Cause of death was drowning, but he was nice enough to not leave her body in the pond that they found her next to." She handed him that file as well. "And Stacy Clark," she went on, "34. Sheriff's secretary and cousin. Attacked in her home 3 days ago. She was stabbed to death."

"See? This is why I'm uncomfortable with you being bait!" he said, placing all 3 files next to him without reading them.

She ignored him and went on with her profile of how he chooses his victims, "All women were between the ages of 20 and 35. They all also lived alone and were single."

"Another reason I don't like this," he told her, sitting up.

"Mulder, I'm not alone. I have you," she told him, resting a hand on his arm, trying to make him feel better.

"How are you not scared?!"

She shrugged, "Maybe because you're scared enough for the both of us!"

"I'm not scared. I'm uncomfortable. I don't want to find you strangled, drowned, stabbed to death, or in any other way dead!"

"Well then, you better do a good job protecting me!" She patted his leg and hopped off of the bed. "Let's go see the sheriff."

Mulder groaned and rolled off of the bed. Scully held the door open for him, and they left the safety of their room. They, of course, were in a small town, and they could actually walk everywhere, including the police station.

"Why does it seem that all of our cases are in small towns?" Scully asked as they made their way through the town square.

"Because small towns are the best place for citizens to keep secrets. Ever read Stephen King's 'Salem's lot?"

"No. Why?"

"Didn't think you would have. It's a vampire book, but it's really about a small town that is good at keeping dirty little secrets. And those secrets destroy the town," he explained.

"Oh. Now I feel better about doing this..." she told him sarcastically.

They walked into the police station and were immediately greeted by the sheriff.

"Sheriff Tom Clark," he introduced himself, shaking their hands warmly.

"Fox Mulder, and my partner, Dana Scully."

Sheriff Clark looked Scully up and down, which, of course, made Mulder feel uncomfortable.

"You'll be perfect," he told her.

Scully gave him a faint, acknowledging smile. Her nerves were starting to kick in. What she was doing, what she was risking, was becoming very real for her.

"You'll have all of the protection we have to offer," he told her, sensing her apprehension of the situation.

"And you have me," Mulder said, putting his hand on her back. He finally stopped trying to creep her out. He realized that she was afraid, but she was doing a better job at hiding it than he was. He decided to step up to the plate and be a good partner and friend and do what needed to be done. Even if he didn't like it.

Mulder definitely didn't like the next words that came out of the sheriff's mouth. "However, we do need to lure this guy out, so we will have to ask you to make yourself appear vulnerable. So, while you will have protection, we can't be with you all of the time. And your partner may need to back off a bit, as well."

"Absolutely not!" Mulder protested.

"Mulder, if it needs to be done-"

"No," he told her. "I'm not going to leave you alone. Anywhere."

"You know that I can take care of myself. If it needs to be done to lure this guy out, then I have to do it," she told him, looking intently into his eyes so he could see that she would not waiver on this.

Mulder shook his head but shut up. Scully knew that she had won that disagreement, but that did not comfort her.

"Okay. What do I have to do?" she asked Sheriff Clark and some of the other police officers that had joined him.

"Well, nothing specific. It's our Fall Festival. Just enjoy yourself. Walk around and be seen. That's all we can ask of you right now."

Scully took a deep breath and nodded. She and Mulder walked back out into the town square.

"I'm not leaving you," he told her.

"You don't have to. Trust me, I don't want you further than a foot away from me," she replied, looking around the town.

He took her shoulders and turned her to face him, he looked her in the eyes and said, "You don't have to do this."

"Yes. I do. It's to catch a murderer. There's not a better qualified redhead!" she tried to joke.

Mulder wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

"You're far braver than I could ever be," he said and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm sure that if our positions were reversed that you would be out there running around by yourself by now, and I would be a nervous wreck!"

He laughed, releasing her from their hug. "I think you're right."

"You know I'm right!" she corrected.

They made their way to the festival. Baskets of apples, tables of pumpkins, bundles of ears of corn, and home-made scarecrows were everywhere! There were many games and a few rides set up. It was like a little fair. Mulder and Scully looked at each.

"We're getting paid to play," he told her, grabbing her hand and dragging her over to a Ferris wheel.

The two of them enjoyed many other rides and games before heading back to their hotel room.

"I am so worn out!" Scully complained, flopping onto the pink couch. "You're like a child," she told him.

"What?! I was just trying to take advantage of the situation! Getting paid to have fun!" he defended himself. "And you were being 'seen,' just like the fine sheriff suggested."

Mulder took two glasses from the cupboard and filled them with ice. He ran them under the facet and filled them with water. He walked over to the couch and handed a glass to Scully before joining her on the couch.

"Thanks," she said, taking a long drink of the icy goodness. "You know, it's pretty hot out there for October!"

"Yep," he agreed.

"Hey, it's your birthday in 3 hours!" she remembered.

"It is," he confirmed.

"You're getting old," she teased him.

"37 is not old!" he exclaimed, sounding affronted.

"It's almost 40!" she laughed.

"Almost. Not quite," he retorted, poking her in the ribs.

"I'm not even in my upper 30s yet!" she bragged, laughing again as his poke tickled her slightly.

"You will be soon, though. The big 3-5! Get ready, it's nothing special," he teased her.

"What do you want for your birthday? A walker?" Scully's laughter was nearly uncontrollable at this point.

"Cut it out!" he laughed.

"Do I have to call you sir?"she continued.

Mulder stuck his hand in her glass of water and flicked some into her face.

"Hey!"

"Sorry to ruin your fun, but we need to get some sleep. We're up early tomorrow," he reminded her, setting his glass down on the coffee table. He stood up and pulled her to her feet.

"'Night, Birthday Boy," she told him, heading into her room.

"'Night, Scully," he called after her.

He sighed and went into his own room. They had a lot of fun tonight, and he was dreading tomorrow. Happy Birthday to me! Go let your best friend risk her life, he thought. He shook his head and settled into bed for, hopefully, a good night's sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No summaries. Just hopping right in!

_He walked through the magnificent building. He took in the sights. The grand staircase, the paintings, the marble floor, the extravagant statues, the chandeliers, and the fact that almost everything was gold._

_"Édouard!" he heard someone call his name. "Glad you could join us."_

_"Monsieur Vichy," he greeted his superior with a small bow._

_"None of that, Édouard. You are here as an equal. Come, join us in our box."_

_He followed Vichy and his 3 other guests to a cozy box to the right side facing the stage._

_"Le Palais Garnier is magnificent, is in not?" Vichy engaged him in conversation._

_"It is quite splendid!" he agreed._

_"Its ballet and opera are just as splendid," Vichy informed him. "I'm so happy that you could be my guest tonight, Édouard. You have done a fine job this year and are a most promising young detective."_

_"Thank you, monsieur. I do try my best," he said humbly._

_The men were silenced as the show began. He watched the performers in amazed awe. They were all so beautiful, the voices of the singers and the movements of the dancers. He was entranced. He was lucky to have a seat so close to the stage where he could really see all of the details of the performance._

_The act ended, and a new one began with a graceful ballet. He felt his heart skip a beat. She was beautiful. She seemed to dance on air. Her auburn curls cascading around her as she twirled. Right then he made it his goal to find her name..._

Mulder woke with a start. He glanced at the clock. It read 4:13am.

"That was the weirdest dream..." he told himself out loud.

Scully was right about it being hot for this time of year. He had kicked the covers off of himself. He got a pair of pajama pants out of his bag and pulled them on over his boxers. He then headed into the kitchen to get some water. Apparently, he wasn't the only one having a problem sleeping.

Scully was on her tippy toes, reaching for a coffee mug.

Mulder leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, amused. "Do you need help?" he asked.

His voice startled her, and she dropped the mug that she had finally gotten as she spun around in surprise. The mug broke as it hit the floor, sending shards of porcelain in all directions.

"Don't move," he told her, flipping on the light.

Mulder jogged into his room and put on his shoes. He returned quickly, and stepped into the tiny kitchen area. He picked her up as a groom does his bride, and placed her on the safety of the carpet. He returned to the kitchen, found a dustpan and a small hand-held broom, and began to clean up the mess.

"I'm sorry, Mulder. You scared me," she explained to him from the safety of the doorway.

"Don't worry about it," he responded, dumping the shards safely into the trashcan. "Now, did you want a coffee mug?" he asked, smiling.

She nodded and returned his smile.

"Insomniacs, the pair of us," he told her, getting two mugs out of the cupboard.

"I guess," she said, leaning against the wall to watch him.

Mulder put the provided motel coffee in the maker and waited for it to brew. He leaned against the sink and looked over to study Scully. He could see the nervousness in her eyes. No wonder she couldn't sleep. It seemed that the heat had gotten to her as well. Instead of her usual matching cotton pajamas, she was down to a tank top and boy-short underwear. Mulder blushed a bit and turned away from her when he realized that she was only in her underwear.

"Happy 37th, by the way," she spoke up.

"Thanks," he replied, staring at the slowly dripping coffee.

"Do I get to spank you?" she asked, jokingly.

He laughed. "Only if you want to, but you would have to complete all 37, which might hurt your hand because I have buns of steal," he told her, not being able to help turning back to face her.

She shook her head and laughed. "Well, in that case I decline. I'll need all of my strength to potentially fight off a killer today."

Mulder's smile faded. He turned back to the coffee and poured it into the waiting mugs. "One sugar?" he asked, though he knew the answer.

"Yep. No cream," she replied, knowing that he knew that already.

He handed her the mug. Scully turned and headed back to her room. Mulder grabbed his mug and followed her. He sat in the pink chair next to her little pink desk. Scully settled on her bed.

"I'm going to take you out for lunch," Scully stated, before blowing into the hot mug of coffee.

Mulder took a sip of his scalding hot coffee, and smiled at her. "What about dinner? It _is_ my birthday."

"Dinner too, if you'd like."

"Breakfast?"

"Don't get too pushy," she lightheartedly warned him. "You're only 37, not 40. Maybe if you _were_ turning 40 I'd feed you all day long!"

He took another sip, amused. "Well, I guess I'll just have to settle for lunch and dinner, then."

"You will," she confirmed.

Mulder glance at her clock. It read 4:36am.

"Are you going to try to go back to sleep? You could get another two and half hours."

"Probably not. I _am_ drinking coffee, Mulder," she pointed out.

"No, you're drinking coffee-flavored water. This is the weakest coffee that I think I have ever had!"

"True," she agreed. "Well, I'm not sure that I can sleep," she told him honestly. "Are you going to go back to sleep?"

"No," he told her. "Want to watch tv?"

"Not really."

"Wanna cuddle?" he tried.

"Mulder!"

"I thought I'd try... It _is_ my birthday... Birthday cuddle?" he tried to coax her into it.

"Why in the world do you want to cuddle with me?" she asked, putting her mug on the side table and trying not to laugh.

"It would just be a friendly cuddle. I like to cuddle. You look small and cuddly. So I figured..." he trailed off when he realized that she was looking at him like he was crazy.

"Okay," she gave in. "But a PG cuddle! Don't get frisky with me. Any signs of sexual harassment and you'll be sorry!" she warned him and scooted over so he could join her in the bed.

They both laid on their sides and Mulder spooned up behind her, draping his arm over her.

"See, isn't this nice? Just a friendly cuddle," he told her.

"You really must be worried about today. I mean, you're rape-cuddling me."

"Hey! You consented," he reminded her.

"Yeah, yeah. However, you are right. This is nice," she commented.

Pretty soon the two of them couldn't help it, and they drifted back off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's funny how short my chapters used to be! My stories nowadays are LENGTHY! I think I'll be nice and post chapters 3 & 4 today. 😊

_He entered her dressing room and crept up behind her. He quickly placed his hands over her eyes._

_"Guess who," he whispered into her ear._

_"Édouard!" the red-haired beauty exclaimed with joy. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "Oh, I've missed you so much! You've been away," she pouted perfectly._

_"You know that I hate to be away from you," he told her, pulling out of her embrace, taking her hand, and placing a soft kiss upon it. "Léonie, you danced like and angel!"_

_"You're only saying that because you are infatuated with me," she told him, matter-of-factly._

_"No, I'm saying that because it's true!" he corrected. "I give you these," he handed her a piece of folded thick paper, "because I am infatuated with you." He used his best smile on her._

_"Is it a poem?" she asked, barely able to contain her excitement._

_He shrugged, "Perhaps."_

_"Why ever did you not become a writer?" she asked him, leaning against her dressing table._

_"Ah. Because writers don't make much money, ma cherie. However, detectives, especially if you're a good one, which I am, do!" he told her, lightly tapping her nose once with his fingertip._

_"Tell me one of your stories," she begged, pulling him over to sit with her on the chaise longue._

_"I am sorry. I have no stories suitable for those delicate ears of yours!" he told her seriously._

_"Please, Édouard!" she begged once more. "You know that I live vicariously through you!"_

_"If my stories are you living vicariously, then I really must get you out of here! Maybe I can ask if Monsieur and Madame Vichy can serve as a chaperone?"_

_"Chaperone?! I'm nearly one and twenty! I don't need a chaperone!" she said, indignantly. "I'm practically an old maid by now!" she pouted._

_He smiled. "You? An old maid? Never! And what does that make me? I am nearly three years your senior," he reminded her._

_"Men are like a fine wine, they get better with age," she told him, smiling and swinging her legs back and forth impatiently._

_He chuckled at her childlike stubbornness._

_"Please tell me a story. You said that you have been busy. There must be some great case keeping you away from me!" she pouted prettily again._

_He sighed. "_ _Léonie..." he began to refuse again, but one look into her clear blue eyes made him not have the strength to tell her no again. "Okay," he gave in._

_She smiled brightly, and tucked her legs underneath her skirts to get ready for his story._

_"I've been working on a strange murder case," he began reluctantly. "We are trying to catch a man who preys on innocent young girls, like you." He was still trying to scare her into asking him to stop. However, she did not ask, so he proceeded. "There have been three girls taken so far. They were all found in the surrounding areas of Paris. Dressed in virginal white dresses and seemingly sacrificed-"_

_"Sacrificed? To whom?" she asked. He could tell that she had lost some of the color that her face once had._

_"It seems to be some sort of satanic ritual or witchcraft."_

_"Satanic? Witchcraft?" her voice was quiet and dull._

_"See? I didn't want to frighten you," he said, standing up._

_"No. You haven't," she told him, grabbing onto his wrist. "That's something I should know, right? In case I need to protect myself."_

_"Protect yourself?" he questioned._

_"If this monster is targeting girls like me, I should know about it to protect myself, right?"_

_He smiled down at her. "First of all, you never leave this building. I think that you are perfectly safe here! Secondly, I'm all the protection you need! I would never let anything bad happen to you," he said, pulling her to her feet to wrap her in a warm embrace._

_"You'll always protect me, won't you?" she asked, looking up at him._

_"Always," he confirmed, kissing her forehead. "Even from yourself."_

Mulder woke with his arm still draped over Scully's sleeping form. He didn't know what should creep him out more, the fact that his dream seemed to continue on from the night, or that Scully now had a leading role as a ballet dancer named Léonie. Either way, he was disturbed. Apparently, this case was having a bigger affect on him than he thought.

He slowly and quietly peeled himself away from Scully's warm body. Doing so, however, woke her up.

"Mmm. What time is it?" she asked, sleepily.

"7:03," he answered. Then he added, "Do you want to take a shower first, or do you want me to?"

"You go ahead," she shooed him away.

"Are you sure? I mean, it will take you more time because you have to do your hair. Mine is always perfect!"

She snorted a laugh at him. "Yeah, right! You look like you have a bowl-cut right now. Please. Shower. You're sweatier anyway," she said, wiping Mulder sweat off of her arm.

"Point taken. I'm going," he got up and left the room.

"And be quick!" she called after him.

Scully ran her hands through her hair. She was really nervous about today, and she was relieved that she got him out of her room. She didn't want him to see how nervous she was. He could read her like a book! She also wanted to have time to just lay in bed for a while. She had a really weird dream, and it left her unnerved.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You all will find out about the dreams soon enough. They are important, not just random filler stuff.

* * *

Mulder was mindlessly flipping through the tv channels, when Scully was finally ready to go.

"I didn't think that you owned a pair of jeans!" he teased her.

She looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a pair of light colored jeans, a white tank top, and a short-sleeved button-down clover green shirt. He was dressed in a baby blue t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Both of them wore tennis shoes- just in case they needed to run.

"I bet you're happy that you don't have to wear a suit," she said, looking him up and down.

"I would be happy to burn all of my suits," he told her honestly.

"Oh, but you look so handsome in your suits!" she shamelessly flirted with him.

"Why, thank you! Your opinion is always welcome to me; however, I would still like to never wear another suit again," he said, standing up and turning off the tv.

"I bet you're really excited now. We get paid to go to a festival, AND we don't have to wear work clothes. This is the best birthday for you ever, isn't it?"

Mulder thought for a second. "Yes, it is. But only because it started with a nice cuddle from you."

They left the room, and Mulder locked the door behind them.

"Technically, you cuddled me, but I wasn't going to point that out at the time!" she smiled up at him, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.

"Well then, you owe me a cuddle!"

They made their way down the steel steps and out into the town square.

"I'm starving," he told her. "Let's go to the diner across the street."

Mulder took Scully's hand and pulled her along before she could actually respond.

They took their seats in a baby blue booth. Scully ordered a fruit oatmeal concoction, while Mulder stuck with a meat omelet and hash browns. They both ordered coffee, hoping that it was stronger than the stuff in their room. They began devouring their food, when Sheriff Clark wandered into the diner with two of his deputies.

"Well, hello, you two," he greeted them as the three men took a seat in the booth behind Scully. "I'm in luck that you all are here. We're meeting the mayor, and I would like to introduce you to him. That's all I really needed from you all this morning. No more attacks, so just be out there."

"It would be nice to meet the mayor," Scully politely told him. Mulder just nodded in agreement. "And hopefully we can catch this guy soon."

The officers ordered their food, pancakes all around, and coffee. In no time at all, another man joined them. He was tall and well built. Mulder pegged him as an ex-high school football played.

Sheriff Clark stood up to introduce the man to the agents. "This our mayor, Vance Malloy."

"How d'you do?" he said as he firmly shook their hands. "We're very relieved that the FBI was willing to help us out on this one. It's been a doozy of a case!"

"It's not a problem," Scully told him. "We're glad to help!" She gave him a convincing smile.

Mulder secretly rolled his eyes at her cheerfulness. He knew how she really felt about the situation. She felt the way he did. Uncomfortable! But he kept his mouth shut.

"We enjoyed your festival last night," she added, to be friendly.

"Thanks. It's our best time of year! Hopefully, you all can catch this guy. Tom, here, suggested shutting the festival down, and that's something I just can't do. This festival gives a lot of these folks their livelihood," Mayor Malloy explained.

"We'll do our best," Scully reassured him, glancing at Mulder, who still found his hash browns more interesting than this conversation.

"I know you'll try," he told her. He turned back to the officers and said, "Well, boys, better be off. I have a chili contest to judge! See everyone later!"

Scully paid for breakfast, then the two of them headed towards the festival.

"You know, you could have jumped in at any time to help me out," she told him.

"You were doing a fine job convincing them and being fake all by yourself," he said and smiled down at her. "It's good that you can hide your fear so easily."

"I'm not afraid I'm just uncomfortable," she quoted him.

Mulder chuckled. They walked along in comfortable silence until they came to the edge of the festival. Mulder suddenly took Scully's arm and started to pull her away from the festival and towards a wooded area.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" she asked, confused.

"You'll see," was all he told her.

Mulder pulled Scully along, through the woods and up a hill. When they reached the top, the sight took Scully's breath away. They were above the town and could see the autumn colors of all of the trees below. Red, yellow, orange, burgundy, and still some green colored the trees into what looked like a beautiful work of art.

"This is why autumn is my favorite season," he told her.

"It's beautiful," she said. "However, it would be better if it actually felt like autumn outside. Instead, we're having a heatwave!"

"I couldn't agree more!"

Scully stood there a little longer, the quietness of the woods was very welcoming. Soon, however, she thought that she heard what sounded like running water. She left Mulder's side to go investigate. She came across a stream. She followed it, not far, to find that it turned into a waterfall that emptied in a small lake below. Now this was beautiful!

"Mulder!" she called, "Come check this out!"

Mulder was at her side in no time. Scully walked closer to the edge and looked over. It wasn't that far down. She got an idea. Scully began to unbutton her green shirt and slipped her shoes off.

"What are you doing?" he asked, but the slight sound of panic in his voice gave away that he already knew what she was going to do.

"It's hot outside. I'm going for a swim. Come on, Mr. Spontaneity! Join me."

"Scully, have you gone crazy? You don't know how deep that water is," he pointed out. "You can't just go running off of a cliff!"

She took her pants off and said, "Watch me!"

She ran and leaped off of the cliff top and plunged into the water below. Mulder peered over the edge. He glanced down at her discarded clothes, but he quickly stared back down at the water and waited for her to resurface. It was taking some time, so he guessed that the water was deep enough. Soon enough, he saw Scully float back to the top. Something wasn't right. She was laying face down in the water.

"Scully?!" he called down to her.

No answer.

"Shit..." he muttered, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Scully?" he called again, taking his shoes and pants off.

Still no answer.

Mulder hurled himself off the cliff and he plunged into the water within a second. He swam over to Scully's motionless body.

"Scully!" he exclaimed, panicking. He turned her over and brushed the hair out of her face. "Come on, Scully!"

He could feel her breathing, which was a good sign.

"Scully?" his worry-filled voice asked again.

Her eyes shot open and a small smile spread across her lips.

"Gotcha. Sucker," she said.

"You little..." Mulder quickly released her and pushed her under the water.

She came back up laughing. "I had to get you in here somehow!"

"That was not funny!"

"Of course it was," she countered.

"This water is pretty nice," he had to admit.

They swam around for a bit longer. They would have been kicked out of most normal pools for excessive 'horse-play.' Mulder spent a lot of his time picking Scully up and tossing her back into the water. They each took two more turns jumping off of the cliff. They began to feel prune-y and decided to call it a day.

* * *

Mulder came out of the bathroom, freshly showered.

"You owe me dinner," he told Scully, taking a seat on the couch.

"Off the couch!" she exclaimed. "You're wet!"

He shrugged and put his feet up on the coffee table.

Scully sighed at his stubbornness, but she knew the best thing to do was to ignore his behavior.

"Mayor Vance stopped by while you were in the shower. We've been invited to his Fall Festival dinner. We can go do that, or, if you want to be antisocial, we can go somewhere on our own."

"I'm not antisocial! We can go to the festival thingy. Besides, you need to be seen , right?"

"Correct," she agreed. "I feel like we've been wasting time," she confessed. "Maybe I'm not the right type of redhead..."

"If I were a psycho-killer I would definitely take you. You're definitely the right type of redhead."

"I'm not sure if you're trying to scare me or give me a compliment."

"Take it as you'd like," he shrugged and smiled at her.

"Okay, you're weird. Get dressed," she told him.

Mulder peeled himself off of the couch and smiled down at the wet spot that he left behind.

"Mulder! See! What did I tell you?!"

"Oh, you mistake me for someone who cares," he said, smiling and going into his room. "It will dry," he said over his shoulder and shut the door.

Scully sighed, exasperated, and went into her room to get ready as well.


	5. Chapter 5

The Fall Festival dinner was set up like a picnic instead of a formal dinner. Mulder and Scully noticed that not much was formal around here. Picnic tables were set up and dressed with table clothes bearing autumn leaves and pumpkins. There was a pig on a spit being barbequed, and corn still in their husks being grilled.

Mulder was happy that this was a casual dinner. He loved his jeans and loved seeing Scully in more form fitting clothes. He noticed that she had a nice butt. He did, however, scold himself for having that thought about her. But he was a man, after all. And men usually only had one thing on their minds. Even if Scully was only his friend and partner, he still couldn't help admitting to himself that he had a little thing for her. Which was another reason that he was scared to death that something bad was going to happen to her during this case.

"Mulder, do you want the rest of this?" she offered her plate of leftover pig meat.

"Sure," he said taking her plate. He wasn't really hungry, but he knew that Scully hated being wasteful, especially when she saw the pig that died for their hunger being cooked.

As it got dark outside, a group of men started a bonfire. A country band took the stage, music filled the air, and the more lively people began to dance. Mulder watched as his partner laughed with delighted amusement.

"Do you want to dance?" he offered, talking loudly over the music.

"If you want!" she replied. "It's still your birthday for a few more hours."

"Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto the dance floor.

They made it through two and a half songs, when Mulder saw one of the deputies from the diner earlier rush up to the sheriff and begin talking frantically. The sheriff then went calmly to the other younger deputy from the diner and began to talk to him. Mulder released Scully and began to walk in their direction.

"Mulder! Hello?! What are doing?" she called after him, standing there confused.

He ignored her a walker quickly over to the small group of men.

"Not Claire!" Mulder heard the younger man cry. "How did this happen?"

"What's going on?" Mulder asked.

Sheriff Clark took him aside. "There has been another attack. One of our own this time. Claire was one of my officers. She and Tony," he indicated the young deputy, "were high school sweethearts. They were going to get married in February."

"She was the smartest person I have ever known!" Tony yelled. "There is no way that she would let her guard down like that!"

"She knew him," Mulder whispered to himself as the realization struck him.

"What was that?" Sheriff Clark asked.

"She knew him," he spoke up this time. "He said that Claire wouldn't have let her guard down. Maybe she didn't let her guard down at all. Maybe she knew her attacker."

Scully watched as Mulder talked with the local police. She didn't want to hear what they were saying. She could tell that there had been another attack, and she didn't want to hear about the gruesome details. She had failed some innocent girl. Someone else was murdered tonight. Their plan had not worked. Scully felt terrible. She felt like she had let the whole town down.

Suddenly, a clear, yet quiet voice that was distinctly male whispered in her ear, "I'm coming for you..."

Scully turned quickly around. No one was there. She spun around again. Still no one. There was no one even close enough to her to have been able to whisper anything. The band was still playing, and the crowd was noisy. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked around again, spinning in a full circle. Still no one seemed to have said anything to her.

_Maybe I'm being paranoid,_ she thought. _Maybe there wasn't a voice. Or maybe this is an x-file... Mulder should be pleased._

Either way, Scully knew that if there was a voice, he was coming for her, and that little fact sent chills down her spine.

Mulder walked back over to where Scully was standing. He thought that she looked shaken and afraid.

"There's been another attack, hasn't there?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," he told her, running a hand through his hair. "Listen, I'm going to walk you back, and then I'm going to go check out the crime scene. You know, give them some help."

"No!" she spoke up quickly, grabbing his arm. She calmed herself a bit before saying, "I want to go with you."

Mulder studied her for a second. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"I want to go with you," she said firmly, letting him know that she wouldn't be deterred.

She actually didn't _want_ to go, but she _really_ didn't want to be alone.

"What's wrong?" he asked, knowing that something was wrong for her to be acting so clingy.

"I just don't feel right."

"Did something happen?" he asked, placing his hand on her low back, now extremely concerned.

"No," she shook her head. "Well, maybe. I don't know."

"So, yes... Something did happen, or else you wouldn't be so freaked out. What happened?" he demanded to know.

"I think that I heard a voice. I'm pretty sure, anyway. It was a man's voice. He whispered that he was coming for me," she explained slowly, carefully reading Mulder's changing expression.

"I think you should go home," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I'm not going home, Mulder. Not until we catch this guy. If he is coming for me, then it will be easier to catch him."

"He just murdered a police officer, Scully. An officer who was working this case! Someone who would not have let her guard down. I don't want something bad to happen to you. I want you to go home."

"Well, I'm not going to, Mulder," she told him a second time. "I'm staying. With you. I'm going to do my job. Be bait. We'll catch him!" Scully sounded so sure that she even almost convinced herself.

Mulder reluctantly agreed and dropped the subject of her going home.

"So, did you see the man who whispered to you?" he asked, trying to change the subject slightly.

"Um, no. That's why I'm not sure that I even heard anything."

"So this is an x-file..." Mulder said, mostly to himself.

Scully smiled despite the situation. She knew that it would cheer him up a little bit to know that they had stumbled upon an actual x-file.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to reiterate that this is a story I wrote YEARS ago, and I'm too lazy to overly edit - aka make it better. Anyway, it's nice to keep a snapshot of how my writing stories began! :)

_Her body felt sticky with sweat. She unlaced the ballet shoes from her feet and gave them a rub. She sighed and looked around her small room._

_"Léonie!" her name was called as two of her fellow dancers burst into her room._

_"What are you doing!" the black-haired one exclaimed. "The stage manager has been looking for you!"_

_"I hear that they are going to give you a line in next week's performance," the blonde girl said excitedly._

_"Or they may let you sing in the chorus!" the first girl added._

_"Why?" she_ _simply asked._

_"I hear it's because one of the patrons has taken a liking to you," the blonde said, nudging_ _her with her elbow._

_"What?! No," she said, slightly shocked._

_"You are a pretty girl."_

_"And you look... interesting."_

_The girls were giving her their version of compliments._

_"Besides, all that matters is that you may have a rich patron! Think of the things you could buy!" the blonde told her, with a dreamy look in her eyes.  
_

_"I don't want a rich patron."_

_"Ugh! Léonie, it's that detective, isn't it?" the black-haired girl asked, slightly exasperated._

_"He doesn't have any money!" the blonde told her before she could respond._

_She shrugged. "I don't care."_

_The girls stared at her in confusion._

_"And besides, he will have money someday. He's really good at what he does, and his boss has already promoted him twice," she added, defending the man with whom she was in love._

_"Léonie," the blonde began, taking her hands, "I know that you feel like you love this man, but do you know if he loves you? And, while you're trapped behind these walls, how do you know he doesn't already have someone else?"_

_"Someone whose dream isn't to dance, act, or sing. Someone who will be out there with him. And that's not you. Would you give up your dream to be with him? Just think about that," the other girl added._

_"We want you to be happy, but we also want you to be realistic."_

_"Do you want a man who you know you could love, but you would have give up your dreams for him? Or do you want a man who can give you your dreams, and maybe you would love him? Think logically,_ _Léonie. Think about what you really want. What's important."_

_"I have to go see the stage manager," she told them, standing up._

_She made her way through the dimly lit hallways and stairwells. She knocked on the wooden door and waited. A friendly looking man pulled back the door and beckoned her in._

_"Have a seat, mademoiselle."_

_"Thank you," she whispered demurely.  
_

_"I have some wonderful news for you,_ _Léonie. You will be on stage more frequently. Starting tomorrow, besides dancing, you will also join the chorus, and next week, I may even let you have a line of dialogue or two."_

_"Thank you, monsieur. To what do I owe this great fortune?" she asked, curious but prying._

_"You have been working very hard, Léonie, to be the best. I am happy to reward your accomplishments. However, I would not be telling you the whole truth if I didn't also add that some of our more prestigious patrons have mentioned wanting to see more of you. I am also telling you this not because I want you to feel any added pressure, but I do want you to know that many are expecting you to put out a great performance."_

_"I will, monsieur," was all that she found she could say at the moment._

_"And don't let any of those other girls give you a hard time. I'm sure they will just be jealous, so don't listen to a word they say!" he gave her friendly advice._

_She smiled and nodded._

_"Off you go, then. You must get enough sleep tonight. You will have a long day tomorrow!"_

_She made her trip back to her room. She settled onto her bed. She laid on her stomach and reached under the bed, pulling out a simple wooden box. She opened it and dumped the contents into her lap. Letters. There were tons of them! She began to read through some of them. Some were typical correspondence letters, some were letters of confessing love, and others, her favorite, were poems. She stared at the small pile. She had two dreams in life. Which one to choose?_

"Scully," she heard a voice whisper, and a strong hand gently shook her. "Time to get up."

She blinked her eyes a few times to get used to the light. She looked up at Mulder, who was fully dressed and standing over her.

"What time is it?" she finally asked, stretching her small body as long as it would go.

"A little after 9."

"What?!" she said, sitting straight up in bed. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

Mulder shrugged. "Seemed like you needed the sleep."

"Ugh!" she groaned, mostly at herself, and flopped back down, covering her face with a pillow.

"You don't have to go, you know?" he told her softly.

"I'm going." Scully removed the pillow from her face. "Why do you all of the sudden want to go off without me? I thought that you were 'uncomfortable' with leaving me on my own?"

Mulder took a seat on the bed, facing her.

"I am, but I don't see the point in you torturing yourself over seeing the body and crime scene and thinking that you could have done something to prevent it because you couldn't have," he told her seriously. "And they do need someone to help, so I offered, and they accepted."

"You don't want me to go, do you?" she asked, looking at him.

"Not really," he answered honestly.

"Fine! I won't go," she conceded, sitting up again.

"Good," he said, standing up. "I don't want you to leave this room. And no one but me comes in!"

"No! I will not be banished to the motel room! I'm going to go outside be around a lot of people. I think that it's safer that way."

He thought about that for a second. "Okay. You have a point."

Scully smiled triumphantly.

"Let's meet at the diner around 1 for lunch. That way I won't have to try to track you down."

"Deal," she said, happy that she didn't have to stay inside all day.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go. Be safe."

Mulder stood there silent for a second. Scully wondered what the heck he was doing. He awkwardly leaned down and kissed the top of her head. He gave her a faint smile and left the room. She could hear the door to the motel room close.

_He's so weird..._ she thought.


End file.
